Tracing Back On Tomorrow
by Wijida
Summary: Written for the Endgame Challenge. I acknowledge Chakotay's choice of Seven...but not for /long/. :) Admiral Janeway arrives, as usual...but events have a way of being different.


Dislclaimer: Well, we all know the tune by now, so we sing it with style

Disclaimer: Well, we all know the tune by now, so we sing it with style. "Voyager belongs to Paramount"…*trumpet* And the song bits included are parts of "At The Beginning", from the Anastasia Soundtrack. I wrote this story for the Endgame Challenge on the J/C story index.

Tracing back on Tomorrow

By Manda (Mizuno Ami)

I remember the day- quite well, surprisingly, for a 'woman of my age' whose life has taken so many dramatic turns in so many short amounts of time. Voyager leaving the Alpha Quadrant with no warning, meeting the Maquis…working alongside some of the most remarkable individuals I have ever been granted the pleasure to know.

_"These should be familiar images to everyone who remembers the U.S.S Voyager's triumphant return to Earth after twenty-three years in the Delta Quadrant._" 

_I_ remember Voyager swooping over the Golden Gate, Tom's triumphant smile as he turned his head to give us an update. 

_"Captain, we're clearing the bay…making our approach."_

_"Land us in the Square, Tom. Take us home."_

__At the time, I could recall everything that had led up to that very moment, but years create cobwebs that can't always be broken.With these memories came melancolia, triumph, and a miriad of other emotions that I tried so very often to forget. In my hand I held my coffee cup which had come with me from my ready room onboard Voyager, with dents of hardship and turmoil brandishing it's once proud and shining exterior.My San Fransisco apartment was around me, and I stood alone…living in comfort with an Admiral's rank and priveledges. It has always taken so much for me not to smile at those words 'rank and priveledge', for with an Admiral's rank comes a burden of responsibilties, meetings, cocktail parties…and the duty of telling so many families that they will never see their loved ones again. Owen had that unpleasant job, twenty-two years ago. One year after we vanished, and I know he spoke to my mother. 

More background rambling- I could recall that one reporter so vividly, his eagerness to get the whole picture clouded by the reluctance of my crew and myself to speak anymore of the subject. We just wanted to get home. That was all we'd ever wanted. And once we _were_, it seemed to me that there was nothing left to be home for.

"Computer, end display." Enough. I'd had enough of the memories and the recollections, and returned to my coffee…and my thoughts, out the window, in the rain.

He stood in the midst of a crowd, familiar shapes surrounding him and making him feel as if he were truly back in his home of twenty-three years, of fond farewells, and for a moment as he sat at a nearby table, he felt that he should order a bowl of tomato soup with a former convict…and talk.

"You look sad." A young face at his elbow, and he looked into eyes of smoky blue, glistening as they peered over a button-nose and soft spikes which blended downward into a face so perfectly innocent in childhood. The young girl…familiar…

"Hello." He greeted her, glad indeed for the distraction which drew away the old ghosts. Just for a moment. They studied each other in a pause and she spoke again, leading him further into his hypothesis as to who she was.

"What's your name?"

"Harry." Again, he paused, studying a face so eerily familiar, contemplating a persona too _déjà vu_ to not make sense to his memory. Taking in the forehead, the ridge, the smile…_I know this face._ "What's yours?"

"Sabrina." She _was_ Naomi's daughter, and his heart constricted as he thought of how the young Naomi had been so eager when she'd begun to grow up onboard Voyager- they'd all been vital in teaching her about anything and everything. And she asked…she'd never stopped asking. He'd admired that, perhaps more than anything he had ever grown to admire about the little girl.Sabrina vanished within a moment, and he flashed back to a memory, taking place in that very room- not _that _very room, but one so much like it. These reunions…every year a new idea, and this year…this year, Starfleet Command had hand-picked an Intrepid class starship from the fleet yards, temporarily christening a formerly known U.S.S Regayov to become the U.S.S Voyager. It seemed fitting to have a ten year anniversary apon a ship bearing the name of their twenty-three year home. 

"Here you are, _Captain_."The voice that met his ears as Sabrina ran for her mother was one he hadn't heard in four years, and in four years he hadn't forgotten the deep, velvety tones of his former captain.A woman he'd viewed as not only a commanding officer, but who'd been a close friend for so many years of his life.Admiral Kathryn Janeway herself, having grown old…. yet not changed.As he accepted the champange flute, Harry Kim smiled, eyes turning toward the disappearing Sabrina.

"Thank you, Admiral…I haven't seen her since she was a baby." He missed that, watching Sabrina grow up through four years of reunions, at every one she would have been a year older…a year wiser…having a year to look more and more like her mother. Janeway's gaze followed, and for a moment Harry wondered about whether she'd ever wanted children. Had she considered it…had Naomi's birth triggered something within her. So many _years_ of being a captain…motherly….It felt familiar for a moment, comfortable as she stood with him and watched. As if those years had never gone by, and she was watching his Ops display back on Voyager…with everyone aboard.

Talk. Always the talk.He had so much to catch up on, and through speaking about Tuvok…his illness, his misfortune… Harry wanted so much to avoid what he knew he had to say.Eventually.Her eyes told him it was a precious subject, mentioned less and less every year, yet not quite ready to leave her thoughts.

"I'm sorry I missed the funeral.I should have been there."

_You should have_. Her eyes told him what her lips wouldn't form, what her voice couldn't bring forth into the open.She sipped her drink, eyes low and sullen, the air having grown tense within that moment.One moment, he'd learned, could change a lifetime.

__"You were on a mission. Everyone understood." _What we all would have given to have there not be a funeral at all., _she thought._How much could I have done to keep that funeral from becoming a reality…key moments, if I'd reacted differently…_The mention of that day stirred memories, stirred up decades of feelings she didn't understand, didn't want to understand.

_Did I understand at all…why did you have to die? How did I miss that?_

__

We saw the Doctor, married now, and with his surprisingly human wife, Lana. He walked her though Sickbay, the old times recollected over a cup of coffee, glass of apple juice for the two-week bride. The Doctor- Joe, I suppose- found amusement in Tom's reaction to his new name. _It was Lana's grandfather_. I couldn't believe it myself, when I heard it. Joe. _Just call me Joe._ The laughter…My eyes teared at the amount of laughter I myself gave forth, and I knew that if laughter were really that healthy, I'd live forever.

"You still haven't told me why you're trying to help Korath." B'Elanna accosted me en route to the 'mess hall', and we sidestepped into a corridor, casual talk as the two of us leaned against a bulkhead. Relaxing as if we'd never left. I had relations with the Klingon homeworld, and B'Elanna's special interest..namely her daughter, Miral…left me with the option of including her in those relations as much as possible.Klingon politics- my interests had since traveled away from starcharts, anomalies, and the distant reaches…to something I considered to be a little more…robust. Or so I hoped they would believe. _I know you, Kathryn._

_And I know you. I won't back down. Not yet._

__"He's an old friend." I was tired…tired of everything, and they always knew that eventually I would snap. My day had come…and I'd gone full circle. From Kathryn Janeway, the Kathryn who stood in that corridor and allowed Noah Lessing to stare into the face of death…to Kathryn Janeway who'd be damned if her life would spin out of control. Be damned if the man who meant more to her than her own life would die due to some mistake she'd overlooked. Some choice she'd wrongfully made in her early days, before greying hair and the possibility of mental instability.I wasn't crazy, wasn't delusional…I wanted my life back. I wanted that control over what I _did _have left.

Miral's out there. Miral Paris, daughter of Tom and B'Elanna, awaited so eagerly by her godfather and the family who was there for her during her development, during the time her mother so deeply craved fresh gagh and banana pancakes.When there was no syrup and emotions were high…we expected Miral to come out screaming for her bananas and her klingon cuisine.But no, she came out at the moment we broke the ribbon on the finish line, the moment our struggle for home and hearth came to an end.She marked the final voyage, and to think of her made my heart ache for that former home. I've assigned Miral- being the Admiral that I am- to the Klingon homeworld to take charge of Klingon-Federation relations. She has her mother's spirit- any other officer…I had my doubts at first, and they were quickly, readily abandoned.

"Ten years ago tonight, this crew returned home from the longest away mission in Starfleet's history." I hadn't even noticed that Reg was preparing to speak…I turned, not wanting to, but for appearance sake. It came with the uniform…appearance. The formalities, the dances, the endless parades of service medals, awarding us the Cochrane medal of honor for the most historic journey on record. Finding the Equinox, and although they were destroyed…for aiding Captain Ransom in remembering. And we brought home the Equinox crew…for that, we were commended. Commended, given what we were 'due'. It was all exhausting, and endless.

I turned to Reg, watching his eager face light up as he was given the honor of delivering yet another speech to his 'family', for yet another one of our pompous meetings to aid in the manifestation that I and my crew were happy. Happy that yet another length of time had passed and so many of us were alive to enjoy…I chuckled. To _enjoy_ it.

"Twenty-three years together made you a family."

_Family. With so many missing members…oh, I wish they weren't…_

__"So let's raise our glasses…to the journey." The tear that balanced perfectly in my eye was small, un-noticable to those who stood nearby. And I raised my glass, fingers trembling as they grasped the thin stem of the flute, as they curled about it and held on tight. Some stablility…at that instant, I felt I needed it dearly. 

_We were strangers starting out on our journey_

_Never dreaming what we'd have to go through._

_Now here we are, and I'm suddenly standing_

_At the beginning with you._

_ _

__"Ladies and gentlemen, meet the Borg." _With cocktails before dinner. _I was reminded of the days when my mother taught Phoebe and I manners…to a young child, manners are quite the struggle. Do you say 'please' and 'thank you', or just take what you want and leave? _Kathryn, Phoebe, meet Admiral Drake. _

_"Pleased to meet you, Admiral."_ I could remember the pride in Daddy's eyes as I would curtsey the way Mommy taught me to. Mommy had thought I'd died so long ago…she'd been alone once I'd left, with Phoebe married to a young artist…I can never remember his name, but I know that I enjoyed his company and hers, very much. When Blanca had her pups…Phoebe named one of them Kathryn and gave it to my mother, claiming that along with Molly's pup- a gift from Mark- that she would never be lonely again.How I would have given anything to see those pups when they were born, so moist and innocent.

__The students watched me, curiously, and I imagined what I would have thought to have a speaker who was considered to be so…notable. We hadn't been able to meet any of the heroes when I was a cadet. No, Admiral McCoy was never in good health…he lived well and with several different artificial hearts, but never would he speak to Academy classes. Admiral Uhura…she was scheduled, once, but called away on an emergency involving…the name always escaped me, but I recalled that it was something russian, perhaps.These cadets watched me with curiosity matching that with which I watched them…and the classroom was rife with freshness.I turned to listen more clearly to Reg, giving off his first colorful narration of the Borg Collective.He saw me, too, through eyes of awe-inspired eagerness. A hero among the want-to-be. Not me, not I, Kathryn Janeway, although I _had_ fought the Borg, had allied with them…nearly broken bread with them, if I could have.I've lived long enough…the memories were sore, my backbone- it never recovered.I wanted to call out, tell them that I was never alone through this, I hadn't pushed nyself out of the stupor, yanked myself out of the void. I had help…help from a man whose life I wanted to _insist_ be honored in the classroom.In every classroom on every corner of the globe, on every Academy campus. For his generosity, his spirit- he died for what he loved, for whom he loved. His wife. I never wanted to think about that aspect-about why, and…how.

"This semester, we are very fortunate to have a special guest lecturer- the woman who literally wrote the book on the Borg: Admiral Kathryn Janeway." _Wasn't that Picard? I'm not sure…it couldn't have been me. I wrote nothing…and left no legacy. _Reg's voice awakened something, and I rose to meet the podium. Another challenge to overcome.

_But I only did what anyone would have done. It was in my blood. In Starfleet_.

__"I'm glad to be here."_ Am I? _I felt a sudden isolation, Reg standing still behind me…and I began to speak, letting all of my knowledge mask the uneasiness that I wanted to push away. And I succeeded in pushing.

The key card slid easily into the slot and I pushed in quickly, tossing a satchel of padds onto the sofa and moving for my kitchen. Coffee. Once I'd contemplated giving it up…but only once, and _very_ briefly.The sun had set over San Fransisco long before I had decided to abandon the gathering and go home…to my empty apartment. It was one of many regrets I faced.

My console beeped and I moved to it, ready to answer some pointless message from any of the reporters who tended to frequent my area…

Or perhaps…I scarsely stopped to believe that it could have been anyone from Voyager…so many were at the party, and otherwise throughout the year we rarely kept in contact with one another.I felt remorse about that more than anything at all.

"Mother."My mother, Gretchen Janeway herself….old, indeed, as the ravages of time had taken over so fiercely, and as she's always liked to say 'No one can live forever'.

"Kathryn, how was it?" She knew of the reunions….although with the shape she was in, I often admitted to being a bit surprised. Mommy never believed in replicators when we were growing up, and no matter how I mentioned it, she refused to take on any sort of unnatural way of living- as McCoy had his exoskeleton, and third artificial heart, Mommy had her books and her faith in life.

"It was fine." Never better, never worse. Always fine. "How's Phoebe?"

"She and Robert are having an art show in Los Angeles this weekend. Her artwork is wonderful, Kathryn- have you seen the latest?"

"I'm afraid I haven't." Family relations were tight- my own fault, as I often did what my father had and kept myself busy at work..almost, at times, as if I were attempting to avoid Phoebe's helter-skelter life and family. Family…I recall at one time telling Q that I did perhaps desire to have children, and telling Tom that I had never imagined that I would have them with him, as I had…it was peculiar, and made every tendril of my thinking seem…confuddled. "When will she be displaying them?"  
"Tomorrow. At the gallery in So-ho." So-ho was one of my sisters favorite places to display her work- rather, she preferred it for the so called 'inner beauty' of the town, the people… "She'd like it if you were there, Kathryn."

"I'll try." _But I have other things on my mind, Mommy…_my thoughts and eyes drifted toward the photograph standing alone beside the desktop monitor- Chakotay, in open collared shirt, standing beside a younger- and happier- version of myself, beside My willow tree in Indiana. We'd taken a trip to see my mother- I'd wanted her to meet the man who had kept me in line for all of those years…and she liked him. She knew how I felt when he died, and as we looked at each other, I knew she understood what tomorrow would mean for me.

"It's all right. I'll let her know. I love you, Kathryn." The picture vanished, and I sat down to stare, chin in hand, at the photograph once again. He smiled back at me, with that damned smile of his, dimple-in-cheek, and I could remember what he'd said to me that very day, as if it were…yesterday.

_"You've gotten us home, Kathryn. And no matter what we do from this day on…you'll always be remembered for that."_

__"It isn't worth being remembered…." I whispered, "If there's no one here to remember what _you_ contributed to it."

I knew tomorrow had to be something better than it ever had been, and that memory gave me the strength to come up with the idea I realized I had needed to carry out all along.

"My plan? I don't know if I have one, Chakotay…you know me- I was always the spontaenous one, dropping my 'bombshells'." I looked down at my current outfit- cerulean blue, coral, swirled together into a simple pantsuit…when had I started dressing so simply? "I'm out of uniform…no commbadge to fiddle with anymore…not today, anyway.But tomorrow…" 

"Tomorrow you'll be gone, and everything will change, won' t it?" A familiar voice behind me struck a chord, and I turned my head to the right. The breeze came up just as she stepped into the orange glow of the sunset, and my eyes twinkled in surprise. 

"Naomi. It's been a while."

"Three weeks, Admiral. It's only been three weeks. Since the reunion." She glanced at the object of my past attentions, and smiled…bringing back the youth which I could remember so clearly from twenty-odd years ago. "He's really gone. I still can't believe it, after all this time."  
"Neither can I." My hands balled into fists at my sides, fingernails digging into soft palms."It's been longer than we think, Naomi. Longer than it should be." I knelt at the foot of the bronze plaque, fingers gently tracing the contours, the lines of the symbol which to me, represented Him…his spirit, his life….the abnormal circle that ended eventually, when it shouldn't have ended that way.

It should never have ended that way.

"Yes. I'm going away." I said it, rising once again and watching the setting sun, feeling my raw, red eyes and brittle grey hair waving in the gentle breeze. In the swaying of the leaves and the waving grass I saw myself, I saw him, I saw our family, our crew, our home…and the things I had lost when I had never even found them."I'm going away, and hopefully, Naomi, my going will benefit all of us for the better."

"I can't imagine how it ever would." She couldn't suspect, had no idea what I was planning, what I would do to ensure that we all had happier lives. 

We would all have them.

"Ten liters, and no more." I stared into the gruff, demanding gaze of a full-fledged warrior, Klingon through-and-through, and looking all the world as if he wanted nothing more than to snap my neck over the price I was offering.None the less, I needed what he had, and was forced to deal with limited resources. No longer an Admiral…merely a former-captain with a plan formulated. All this former captain needed to do now was carry that plan out. 

"Twelve."

"Fine." It wasn't much, twelve liters of the strongest prune juice available on earth…but yet it was what he wanted, as well as a shield emitter. Both I could procure, and did, in exchange for something that gave more power than Starfleet ever could have hoped to give me.

"It's a deal." There. It was sealed without a kiss, and held as much promise.In my hands I held the future…an alternate future which could have been if not for a few simple choices made in the heat of the moment, as my coffee cooled and I bided my time. Bided the time until I would change the future, change my present and be able to see Molly's pups, see Blanca's pups…cuddle those squirming masses of puppy in my hands…and be blissfully ignorant. Happy. That was happiness. "I expect it to be onboard my shuttlecraft when I return at 2300, Captain."

"It will be done." Klingons were primarilly honor bound, and I believed that it was the case in my instance…my gut feeling had never failed, and I wasn't willing to have doubts now. Not when everything was at such high stakes.

"Admiral." Miral met me as I strode down a corridor of roughly hewn stone, the powdered redstone crunching beneath my boots. "There's a subspace message for you---it's urgent."

"How did they find me?" I wasn't alarmed—amazed, perhaps, at the ingenuity of someone whose chief concern was to find me and speak to me. Reg knew of my whereabouts… I'd had the utmost confidence that he would retain that knowledge. "I'll take it in your office, Miral."

"Aye, ma'am." I marched with certaintly and distinction- only halfway did I realize that I no longer had to walk that way, did I so desire. I was a tired woman, and left with a massive plan to carry out. The screen in Miral's office was small, and I sat before it curiously, eyes moving to the blinking amber light—a message coming in. For me. Urgent.

"Kathryn." 

"Chakotay…" The face was grey, lined with age, and I balked as I remembered where I had last seen it. His funeral. Before we lay his body on a pyre and let the tongues of flame devour his body. Then I had been unable to watch further, and moved away.

Now I couldn't move away…staring at a face that had so often haunted me in my dreams. 

_I know it was difficult, living all of those years without her._

_I wish…I wish it could have been me._

__"Kathryn…before you do this—and I know what you're going to do…you've hinted at it so often since I showed any signs of dying. You'll live forever, Kathryn Janeway…but don't try to go back and correct anything. It can't be corrected…my last few years may have been hard, but not lonely."

"Oh, god..." I clasped a hand over my mouth, staring at this pre-recorded face, this image of a man who had predicted what I would do, had paid attention to my ramblings, my 'what-if's', and 'perhaps I could's'. He listened, and because he listened, I could hear from him one last time…before I corrected everything.

"So listen to me, Kathryn. Listen, because I know you're going to need some advice from your first officer now. Don't endanger hundreds of lives…consider the repercussions of what you're going to do, and how it's going to affect Harry, B'Elanna...Miral…Naomi. Think of what you can do with your life _now_, Kathryn. Be an Admiral…I know you can do it much better than anyone else ever can, or will." His image fell into a burst of static for a heart-fleeting moment, then resumed, looking harrowed. "I know you're ready to go ahead with your plan…so go, Captain Kay, and follow your trail to the ends of the galaxy. If this works…you can thank me when you see me again."

It vanished, and my heart paused in it's beating. He'd set it up, meaning to have it sent when I…most likely when I was set into the Starfleet Database as 'On Leave', and to be sent to my destination. But how…

_No one told me I was going to find you  
Unexpected what you did to my heart  
When I lost hope you were there to remind me  
This is the start_

_ _

__"Shuttlecraft _Marx _to Lieutenant Paris. I'm commensing launch sequence."

_"Acknowledged, Marx. Admiral..good luck."_

__I smiled, gazing down to the image of Miral Paris, staring upward through a miniscule viewscreen. _She looks so like her mother…_

"Thank you, Ensign Paris." My fingers danced over the controls, lifting me into the cool autumn sky—I remembered Chakotay's message and was spurred onward by that alone.I didn't care what he told me, what he wanted me _not_ to do…I didn't care, and carried out my plan with the ferocity I had felt when it first became my life."Computer, bring the temporal drive online." 

"_Drive activated_."

"Engage on my mark. Bring engines to warp three, and prepare to jump. Shields up."

_Shields up! Red alert…Tom, evasive maneuvers. _

__Evasive maneuvers were more than I needed right now. A steady light and shining stars to guide me.

And today…I had only my stars.

I_Life is a road and I wanna keep going,_

_Love is a river I wanna keep flowing._

_Life is a road, now and forever,_

_Wonderful journey._

_I'll be there when the world stops turning,_

_I'll be there when the storm is through._

_In the end I wanna be standing_

_At the beginning with you._

_Temporal Time Change: U.S.S Voyager, 1900 hours---nineteen years prior._

__"I can't believe that." I stood inches away from him, watching her cross her legs,as they sipped coffee and read over the newest reports from deck below. The light was dim on their faces, starlight from the viewport being the only way we could see anything before us. I had enjoyed that—our long night's together just reading over reports and drinking coffee. He always preferred tea---I couldn't understand that. We never had the same tastes, he and I. Not in beverages, late night discussions…often he would refute my points on some topic, and that would lead to hours of batting subject matter to-and-fro until 0200 hours.

This time I had planned on sleep…this time; I planned on making sure that there was no overtired Captain on Voyager's bridge. 

As I watched from afar, something triggered the emotions that I had thought I had lost throughout the years of being without him. 

"Another false alarm." Chakotay's voice was just as I'd remembered it to be, potent and deep. My tether and my strength through the dark voids and lengthy battles. "B'Elanna's threatening to decompile the Doctor if he tells her the same thing next time."

"I wouldn't blame her. If I were having my first baby, I imagine I would be as nervous as-" At the mention of children I stopped, just I remembered stopping…or, rather, _she_ stopped. Chakotay's eyes on mine, any actions stopping as we sat together- yet light years apart. His hand reached for hers, and I could feel the warm breath on my cheek.As if I were really thirty-four again, and he had never died on a bed in a cabin on the lake—where he'd wanted to die. He'd made me promise that he would never die in a hospital, in the Federation…that without Seven, he wanted to die alone. 

"Kathryn…" I couldn't bring myself to watch it again, to see it rather than play a part in this scene, which was so desperately heart wrenching. I stepped forward, pressing a control on my tricorder that would allow the shadows to melt away, to take my personal cloak apart and show my aged form to the two who thought they sat alone. And with my appearance, Kathryn stood up in apprehension—and I waved her down again.

"My name is Admiral Kathryn Janeway---and I'm here to bring Voyager home."

_Temporal Time Change: U.S.S Voyager, 0200 hours_

"My name is Admiral Kathryn Janeway---and I'm here to bring Voyager home."__

__The pallor of the room had an overall tenseness as the three occupants watched each other, Chakotay opening the door to the conversation first. I'd always admired him for that candor, the ability to make an uncomfortable situation somewhat bearable. _She_ stared at me for a moment, still in shock, then turned to him as he began to speak. 

"You're Admiral Janeway?"  
"Yes, from nineteen years into your future, Chakotay." I had to attempt to hide my pleasure at seeing him alive again—it was difficult, and I have no doubt my emotions were visible. The 'Captain's-card-playing-face' had long since faded into history. "I've discovered exactly what it takes to get Voyager home _years_ in advance, saving lives and hardships—"  
"Wait just a minute," Captain Janeway came to, regaining her senses quickly and turning to me. "You're here to _what_? Bring Voyager home? That would mean that-"

"We…you…will get home." I intervened, crossing the space between us and casually sitting upon the couch. "In nineteen years, you will have crossed the majority of the Delta Quadrant, and Starfleet will send a long-range tactical vessel to escort you to the Bajoran Wormhole.Your arrival will trigger banquets and parades—it'll all be a long-winded celebration of your return."

"And that's what we wanted. Our return." Captain Janeway responded, her usual determination not withstanding. "Now, about your being here…is there any way to send you back? Prevent any damage to the timeline without further cracking of the Temporal Prime Directive? Seems to me that we've poked quite a few cracks into the surface already, and I'd like to help you make a discreet exit without making any more."

"It isn't that simple, Captain." Was I ever that stubborn? Didn't I ever listen? What did I accomplish with that attitude? My eyes turned toward Chakotay, body rooted to the comfortable cushions beneath me, and I sought out assistance in his cinnamon-brown depths. _Come on, Chakotay. It's me, Kathryn…tell me you remember…tell me you understand what I'm dealing with. I need your help._

__"Captain, I'd say she has something else to tell us." He _did_ understand, perhaps in his own way, without my intervention. And she listened to him, as I could remember taking his advice to heart, whether I admitted so or not. She watched me with scrutinizing eyes, hands perched on hips as I imagined the thoughts running through her head. Had I been forced to deal with an unexpected Admiral who held my identity…I would have listened to her, without question. And I needed to express that, would she ever listen.

"Thank you, Commander." I started to speak but she stared at me, shaking her head defiantly, gesturing to Chakotay as she slapped her commbadge.

"I don't know what we'll do with you, _Admiral_…but I'd like the Doctor to confirm your identity before we listen to _anything _you have to say on any topic. Chakotay—escort her to the brig. I'll have the Doctor meet you there."

And I was escorted by the man I'd spent twenty-six years living with or thinking about…after he was gone. He seemed to sense it as well, choosing to say nothing until we were out the door and a reasonable-distance down the corridor, both managing to field any peculiar stares in my direction with a well placed nod. I felt strange, touring the corridors of a ship I loved but which I hadn't set foot upon in a sizable amount of time. And Chakotay—he realized I knew the way as well as his own Captain, and allowed me to set the pace for our journey…I stopped, and waited. And asked.

"Chakotay—how is everything?"

"Fine." The answer was short, as I knew it would be—he scarcely believed that his Captain would do something so foolish and risky to the timeline—no matter how old she would be. He wanted to believe that she would grow old and graceful, allow nothing to get in her way, and retain the concern she held for the Prime Directive…with a measure of doubt and risk she had always thrown in. I could see it in his eyes, hear it in the way he moved—not himself. 

"No." I placed my hand on his arm, half-expecting him to shrug it away, as he often did when he was upset with me. "With Seven. How is everything?"

"It's fine." I could hear the pleasure and pride in his tone—it hurt, knowing that I had never been able to really reach him…to really let go, and when it wasn't even our time to be home, he had married Seven of Nine. She'd died too soon…and our worlds collided in the last moments of his existence. The hurt…my hand in his as he told me how he wanted to be buried…how he wanted to die.

"Captain—Admiral-"

"Kathryn. Chakotay, I'm the same Kathryn Janeway you've known all of these years. You can talk to me as if I weren't gray haired and aging. I assure you—I _am_ as healthy as she is."

"But you're older—you've lived a different life, had different experiences." He peered at me, eyes searching, almost knowingly. "And known a different Chakotay, if I'm not mistaken."

"You're not." I replied, and continued to move. "You're not mistaken, Chakotay, but your Captain is right. We need to move forward with this and leave out the Temporal Prime Directive. Things could only turn out worse for everyone."

"Worse for you? Or me?" What he said struck a nerve, struck an emotion unvisited by years of practice and I recoiled at the suggestion.

"There's nothing you need to know, Chakotay. Not now. Not yet." _And not if I can help it_, I thought, as we turned into the Brig, and I obediently stepped away from him.

_You can't know what I do. I need to keep it safe, to keep you alive._

_Temporal Time Change: U.S.S Voyager, four hours later_

__The briefing room was silent, senior staff in their traditional positions as their Captain stood close to the viewing window, hands braced against the sill as she regarded the stars.

"So, what's going on here?" Tom Paris leaned back in his casual manner, arms crossed blatantly across his chest as he studied the group around him. There was tension building with each passing moment- everyone was aware of the situation yet knew little, leaving it to their Captain to give the required details.

She was less than forthcoming.

"We have a guest." Janeway turned to her crew, regarding them with little emotion present in her blue eyes- all that she had on her mind was _herself_, if it were really true, sitting down in the brig and awaiting a decision she would make. _What do I do with myself? Especially when she ranks higher—this is a unique situation…for all of us. _"We're in a rather unique situation…our guest, Admiral Janeway, has come with news that she holds a faster way for Voyager to get home. Saving us years, and preventing deaths and tragedy along the way, which according to her is going to be a tough one."  
"Wait a second," Harry Kim interjected. "So…we _will_ get home?"  
"Yes, Ensign." She allowed herself a smile, and turned somber once more. "According to the Admiral, we will get home…but I'm not exactly sure how long it will take us."  
"So if there's a shorter route, let's take it." Kim put in, although his Captain apparently held reservations on the subject, and was hesitant to explore them. She sought assistance in Chakotay's steady gaze and found it, sitting down and allowing him to speak his mind, as she was aware he would.

"It's not that simple, Harry. We need to know more about this Admiral—the Doctor's examining her as we speak, running a DNA match against Captain Janeway to be certain."  
"And if it is indeed my counterpart…then we'll have bigger fish to fry," Janeway finished, leaning forward and folding her arms across one another. "I want tactical updates every hour, Tuvok—long range scans of the area…she seemed tense, and I want to know if our position at the moment has anything to do with it. B'Elanna—how's the baby?"

Torres seemed exasperated and taken aback by the question, recovering rapidly and shaking her head. "There's nothing wrong, Captain. She's fine."

"That's good to hear. I want you on restricted duty from here on in. If there's another false alarm- I'd like to be ready."

"Aye, Captain." The assembled rose, and she followed them out with her eyes, neglecting to note Chakotay's presence until he spoke, jolting her out of a light daydream. She turned her head, a wisp of reddish-brown falling over her cheek.

"What is it, Chakotay?"  
"How are you handling this?" He queried, still sitting in his chair as he regarded her with thoughtful eyes and furrowed brow. "You seemed to have doubts about this…what do you think of her?"  
"I might ask you the same question." Her eyes narrowed, as she looked at him, silent for a moment. "You're the one who escorted her to the brig…I imagine she attempted to speak to you. She seemed…pleased to see you."  
"She was. I can't deny that. From what I gather…things are a bit different in her timeline." Chakotay replied. "It seems that she holds her mission in high regard, and is willing to do whatever she can to see it through." He paused. "Seems to me that she's still a great deal like her former self." 

"I imagine she's a woman who's… a great deal changed." Janeway rose, leaning against her chair. "Chakotay…I honestly don't know what to make of this plan…she seems to me like she's a bit _too_ determined. A foolhardy plan—and no way to get back?"

"Maybe she didn't _want_ to go back."Chakotay seemed convinced, but his Captain shook her head in the negative.

"Maybe. But I can tell you this…it may look a Janeway, and sound a Janeway---but that never means that it's necessarily," And she crossed her arms, head tilting slyly. "…A Janeway."

"You're letting me free." I watched from behind the forcefield, seeing her pace to-and-fro in an oddly familiar tempo which she…and I…had retained over the years. 

"We're allowing you free reign of Voyager—for now." She was reluctant, as I'd expected her to be. It was no surprise, her reaction to my presence, and I considered rebutting with a remark about the future. As the forcefield rescinded, I stepped out and decided against it, following her forth into the corridor. She wasn't finished—by a longshot—regarding me with arched eyebrow as we entered the turbolift, together. I have to admit—the mirrored carriages were almost…eerie to me, having seen them in action."You're no doubt an exact match to my DNA…which leaves us to find out exactly why you're here, and what your motives are."  
"I can tell you my motives, Captain." I leaned against the turbolift wall, taking a moment to scan the interior—it had been some time since I'd been inside an Intrepid class vessel…or any vessel other than my own shuttlecraft. Admirals restricted to desk duty—Starfleet may have trusted me, but that didn't mean that they believed I should remain in command of any vessel. "I'd like Voyager to get home without any of the hardships and traumas that cost me my closest colleagues and members of my family." I'd said too much— there was no crossing the bridges that I had burned…I'd burned much more than my fair share.

"Commendable motives…but the Temporal Prime Directive-"

"The 'vaunted' Temporal Prime Directive. Ignore it, Captain. Trust me," I smiled, "It saves you the headache."

She studied me closely for a moment, and as we entered her ready room, moved upward to the replicator.

"Coffee?"  
"Yes, thank you." I took a seat, crossing my legs and lounging comfortably. "It's been a while since I've been in here…after the overhaul, Voyager was turned into a passenger vessel…used to transport the former Maquis prisoners to their homeworlds…or a newly established colony in the memory of those lost."

In her eyes I saw the sorrow at being reminded…I could recall the day Chakotay informed me of the massecre…for her, it was still fresh in her memory. As she brought the coffee we sat, basking in the scent of Columbian. Voyager's replicators always made a unique impression upon my favorite coffee—after years of freshly grown, I realized that I'd forgotten that.

"Voyager is still in service?"

"Oh, yes. A bit outdated, and she was assigned to a Captain Sandra Reyes…but Starfleet decided that such a memorable starship deserved to remain in service for as long as possible. Recovering from the Dominion War was difficult for them—every able ship was still welcome after all of those years.I admit, however—being on the other side of the desk made me miss this room more than I realized. But being back here— I feel more at ease."  
"All right, that's enough." Janeway regarded me calmly, her expression one of preparation. "You said you wanted to get Voyager home. How is it, exactly, that you propose to do that?" She was never one for beating around the bush, and neither was I…how was it that I had changed so much?

"There's technology aboard my shuttlecraft," I replied. "Shield generators…much stronger than any you've ever experienced. And weaponry…you're going to need it all, where you're going."

"And where is that, exactly?"

"Back to that nebula." At the expression on her face, I chuckled. "Yes, Captain…I know about the nebula. You forget- I'm _you_."  
"And I'm _still_ me…I don't recall knowing anything useful about that nebula other than the fact that we were nearly ploughed over by forty-seven Borg cubes along the parimeter!" Violent, yet predictable. I shook my head, gesturing for her to settle back. _Listen, Kathryn. You know me._

__"Captain, I can't tell you how much I'd like you to believe that I am here for all the right reasons—I'm here to save so many lives…and save you so much time." The door chime interrupted our discussion and I ignored it, giving her the opportunity to turn away and collect her thoughts. She seemed to know—seemed to realize what reasons I had for being there were legitimate. 

Chakotay's voice reached me…my hearing having remained as excellent as ever over the years. To hear the deep tones, see the dark skin once again...it was a balm to my pained thoughts. As I sat alone by the viewport, the two conversed near the door—I could see Chakotay's eyes catching mine, assuming what he could about the situation. I knew Kathryn- she would have filled him in on everything, and what she didn't…he was skilled in making his own assumptions.I knew that, as I knew what would happen to him, and I hid the truth behind layers of gray hair and experience.

"I'll see you on the bridge, Captain- Admiral." He nodded toward me and I rose, gesturing for him to wait. _Just a moment. _A curious glance from Kathryn caught him off guard, however, and he was gone before I could stop him again.

As he left, his Captain turned to arch an eyebrow at my expression- wistful, I suspect, just for a moment in time before I was able to snap out of it.

"Old ghosts, Kathryn." I replied, inclining my head slightly. "It's been a while since I've seen him…my Chakotay…dies twenty years after his wife's death onboard Voyager. He was never the same."

"His wife?" After a moment she shook her head. "Never mind, I don't want to know…" Her brow furrowed, slightly. _His wife?_ I wondered if the confusion and the curiosity would be the same for her…if she would feel the same about his coming to her…asking her to perform the ceremony. It was a surprise to me, when he had approached me one afternoon in this room…had asked if I would perform the ceremony, which would make Seven of Nine his wife. If my plan worked out correctly—she wouldn't have to see that, after all.

"Have your engineers comb over the shuttlecraft. They'll find the technology compatible…and should be able to refit Voyager within a few days—if we're lucky." I wanted to stress the 'luck' part of the deal…it would be luck, and only luck which would see us through. And when they saw the Alpha Quadrant again…it would all be worth it to never have to live what I did.

Stepping onto the bridge was as comfortable to me as pulling on a pair of old shoes- just fitting, just right, despite the chasm of time that existed from when I had last stepped foot onto a starship, to the time when I was given desk duty. Those Admiral's pips- not nearly as confining when you're seeing them on someone elses collar.

"It's been quite some time, hasn't it?" She turned to me, as Chakotay relinquished his seat to me, and chose instead to take position beside her. _You're not alone, Kathryn. And in a few hours…you may never have to feel that way again._

__"B'Elanna. Are we ready to try out the new shielding?" I could see the tension on her face, the flames of curiosity snapping fiercly within her eyes. 

_"Yes, Captain. I'd recommend continuing at one-quarter impulse…"_

__"Agreed, Lieutenant. Tom?"

"Speed altered, Captain. Ready to lay in our new heading."

"Course heading-"

"Two-six-eight-four-nine mark three." I interrupted, ignoring her gaze of irritation. "I realize it's your bridge, Captain…but I know the way."

"And you outrank me. Right. Now then," Captain Janeway leaned back, giving Chakotay the glance of childish-excitement that I could always recall giving him…it had happened so often, that I hadn't been given the opportunity to forget. "Tom, engage."

"Aye, Captain." The nebula was an hour away, and I retreated to her ready room—_when had I become so bold as to countermand my own orders? _I knew her—I had been her, once, a Captain with a mission- and was now a hardened Admiral. _Was I ever so…am I so cynical now? _

__"All hands, red alert!"  
  


_U.S.S Voyager. Spacial block 45963. _

_Assimilation will not be executed._

__"No…" She trailed off, whispering, the dry tones barren of any emotion. Around her, the humidity rose and curled a curtain of steam about her body, beads of sweat holding place upon her shoulders. A torso of black rubber, slim—fashioned for efficiency. "No, I want to study them. We will observe Captain Janeway's actions further." She tilted her head, willing those at her disposal to carry out her bidding.

_Yes, Captain. Play your games._

_ _

__"We're approaching the nebula." Captain Janeway informed me as I took the stairs to her side. My ribs ached—the tension was getting to me, and to her—I could see it in the way she stood. Behind us, Chakotay's form stood close to Seven. I knew what I saw, and Kathryn did as well.

There was no time. Not anymore.

"Tom, full stop. Tuvok- activate the modified shielding, arm transphasic torpedoes on my command." I ordered. She glanced at me, lips poised to object, but Chakotay stepped in.

"Captain- " Was there something I had missed? Something unspoken passed between them, something heavier than my heart at that moment. Heavier than the burden I had risked carrying to them through that rift. Only a few days ago. 

"I know, Chakotay." She turned to me, inclining her head as he began to jog toward the turbolift. I shook my head, reached for him, farther away.

"No, Kathryn. I'll go." They were planning a diversion. It was that simple. And I wasn't a part of it. Damned if I wouldn't be."This is why I came. If you get home, then all that I've tried to prevent will be prevented."

She shook her head, but Chakotay's hand on her shoulder stopped any further resistance. I smiled at him, knew he understood what I had to do, and why _I_ had to be the one to do it. If I succeeded—if I was lucky enough to buy them the time—then time would be worth so much more to them than it had ever been worth to me.

__

_They're closer now. I can hear them…_

__A slim hand encompassed the rods surrounding the central alcove—fingers tightened, gripped the black metal, smooth and slick, as her narrowed eyes watched the image of a small, yet powerful starship which entered the nebula without fear. Determined. _Captain Janeway…_

It would be only a matter of time…

"Good luck." She stood at the rear of the shuttlecraft, and I spun to face her, the chair swiveling with such a familiarity—I wanted my desk, I wanted her place onboard. I wanted to be _Captain_ Janeway again, in command of her vaunted Starship, ideals bordering so close to breaking the Prime Directive, and yet…I felt nothing about my suicide mission. Except that not only would it save everyone I cared about—but it would give her a chance at something that I had never taken.

"Do me a favor." I reached into my tunic and withdrew a roll of paper, tied with a tattered crimson ribbon, it's silken sheen faded over…time. "Give this to Chakotay, Kathryn. Don't forget it."

"I won't." She took the paper into her hand and gazed at it, curiosity flashing through her eyes before she looked back up at me. "Admiral…"

"I'll be all right." I promised, nodding. "It's up to me now, Kathryn. And you've got a ship to get home. Just follow my lead—and listen."

She smiled, turning to exit the shuttlecraft without another word- I preferred it that way. The paper would reach its intended recipient, and I…would carry out my mission.

"Commander." He didn't hear her step onto the bridge. He and Seven had been carrying on a conversation close to the Captain's chair- astrometrics and…candles…and when she appeared he hadn't known how to react. Until the moment when the paper was slipped into his hand, and Kathryn Janeway resumed her place upon the pedistal.

"What's this?" He sat down, and Janeway shook her head. 

"I can't say, Commander." She turned away, to Tuvok, and he began to unwrap the paper. Crimson ribbon danced to his lap, thin and brittle paper began to unroll.

"Captain-"

Voyager trembled, her Captain clutching the sides of her chair in a moment of vulnerability, before she caught herself and stared.

"Mr.Paris, evasive maneuvers! _Voyager_ to the Admiral!"  
_"I'm afraid that I'm busy, Captain."_

__"We're experiencing some problems over here, Admiral. I'm afraid that you'll have to be without escort for a while."

_"Dammit, no, Kathryn! Chakotay, talk her out of it!" _The panic was clear, and for the first time, Chakotay was certain that he knew fear in the older woman. 

__"I'm afraid I can't do that, Admiral." Captain Janeway looked at him for a moment, eyes twinkling as her eyebrow arched softly, and she tipped her head.

"Good luck, Admiral. We'll be there shortly. Janeway-"

_Out._

__"Captain, something's locking on to us!"  
"What?" _Borg tractor beam. It has to be…god in heaven, help us…_

The ship tremored again, more violently, and Janeway held on.

"Tuvok, fire torpedoes! Full spread- target their tractor emitters!" Chakotay reached for her hand and she took his, together gripping for a moment in attempt to gain stability, confidence, hope. She needed all of the hope she could get - as did they all. 

_After all of this…we can win._

_ _

__"You can't have them, you know." Her head swiveled toward the sound before she knew it, watching as the emerald light cast a glow upon an aged, determined Admiral Janeway, who leaned smugly against a bulkhead with arms crossed against crimson and black uniform. "Captain Janeway is resourceful."

"_Captain _Janeway will fail. Voyager will be assimilated. We will prevail." Her eyes were narrowed against the presence of the brash officer, and she inclined her head toward an above viewscreen. "Our vessels are converging."  
The Admiral chuckled. 

"And then? You've been after Voyager for years—how better a chance do you think you have now, against their advanced shielding and the upgraded weaponry?I'd say you're outnumbered this time."

_Perhaps…_

_ _

__"Evasive maneuvers, Mr.Paris!" Janeway still clutched the hand of her first officer, fingers crushed against his strong grip, but the pain being minor in comparison to the situation. She didn't care—they had to pull out of the tractor beam…

"We're being pulled in, Captain!"  
"Vorik!" _If we've ever needed you in Engineering, B'Elanna, we're needing you now._ Why was it that children were always born during the battles? __

_"We are attempting to bring weapons back on-line, Captain. However, I regret to inform you-"_

__Who cared?

"Dammit!" She launched from her seat, fingers freed from Chakotay's grasp as she sprinted up toward Tactical. "Your station, Lieutenant."

Tuvok was aside without a word, allowing his Captain access. No one spoke, just held on. That was all they could do, but wait. 

"Captain?" He was there beside her before she knew it. 

"Chakotay, I'm going down to launch the tricobalt devices—manually." She turned her head to his objective gaze, and placed a hand on his chest. "No. It has to be me—you're needed here. And so are you, Tuvok."

It was unspoken. Her counterpart was making a sacrifice—he knew that she felt her actions would compensate. Somehow.

"Captain-"  
"That's an order." Her smile was soft. "Chakotay…keep an open commlink—I'll see you in a few minutes. All of you." 

"Aye, Captain." _Déjà vu,_ the first officer mused, returning to his seat- unwilling to take hers.Memories of her being in the collective—his taking over her mantle…the empty feeling was back. 

_Careful, Kathryn. We haven't come this far to lose you now._

__"Commander---I'm detecting a site to site transport…a shuttlecraft…"

_No!_

__

_Aunt Kathy…Aunt Kathy…_

_Kathryn klein, ging allein…_

__"Mommy?" She was groggy—waking up…was that it…was harsh, and the emerald glow unkind. 

"Welcome back, Admiral…" 

"Back…I-" There was blood on her forehead…real blood. _But I wasn't really here…my shuttlecraft…Voyager…_

__"Thirteen vessels are converging upon their position." The Borg Queen watched her, smugly, standing erect before the central alcove. "It won't be long until Captain Janeway and her crew become one with the Borg."

"I beg to differ." Janeway struggled to rise, reaching out and pulling her body up with all of the strength she was able to muster—the pain was excruciating, the burning in her legs…some sort of bioweapon, perhaps. It wasn't something she could place a name on. "Captain Janeway is going to get home."

"You were their diversion." The queen replied. "And now that we have you…"

"You'll never have me."

The tubules…it was too late to scream as they pierced soft skin at her throat, and she could feel the disturbing…the pain… it was too much…

_Your mind…_

_Will be one…_

__"Not so fast." The voice was familiar…had spoken only moments before…youth…

"Captain Janeway."

"Let her go." The younger Janeway stood only a few feet away, the familiar glow of determination illuminating the space around her as she hefted a phaser rifle securely. It was unexpected, the Borg could give her that. 

_Unacceptable._

__"Kathryn," The throaty groan was all her superior could muster. "Kathryn…_no._"

"I've left orders for Voyager to target three tricobalt devices directly onto my position, if I don't contact them with the Admiral in five minutes," The Captain intoned. "I suggest you step back, and allow us to leave peacefully."

"I'm afraid you're too late." The queen stepped aside, smoothly, her movements liquid, planned, precise. "She's already becoming one of us."

The grey tendrils crept up…and Admiral Kathryn Janeway groaned. 

_No…it isn't too late._

_In the future…I'll be an Admiral. And Chakotay and Seven…will be alive to see it. _

__Kathryn lunged, swung the rifle with all of the strength and power of her beliefs urging her on. It had to be done- she had to save _someone_, sometime, even if it was only an old woman who she would later become. Voyager stood behind her, Chakotay's strong voice and steady gaze pushed into her mind's eye. 

"I wish I could say…it was nice meeting you again." She breathed, as the rifle met metal, and cobalt orbs met blue. "But 'nice' isn't exactly the word I had in mind."

"It was…for me." The queen reached a hand, but Janeway's fingernails scraped the skin—

and 

_Energize!_

_ _

__"Bring us about…heading one-eight-six-two-four mark two!" Chakotay leaned forward, eyes glancing only once to the empty seat beside him. She'd beamed to a shuttlecraft—but there hadn't been time to consider pursuit…thirteen borg vessels, and not a moment to spare.

"Aye, Sir!"  
"Commander…I'm detecting a shuttlecraft approaching off our port bow." 

"Acknowledged."Chakotay couldn't allow himself to relax, reaching a hand self-conciously to Kathryn—who wasn't there. Why couldn't he remember that? "Ensign!"

"Nothing yet, Sir. I'm getting a lock…it's the one of ours."

"Lifesigns?"

"One. But, Sir…I can't tell who it is through the interference!"

He has his hand on his commbadge before he realized it, heart in his throat, cutting off his air with the sheer spontinaity of it. The sensation was almost painful, and the dark man coughed out a harsh cry full of hope and pleading. "Chakotay to Janeway. Admiral—what's the status of the Captain?" 

"She's right here, Chakotay." And it was Captain Kathryn Janeway's voice they heard—Kathryn Janeway who was young, vital—the voice that had led them home. Not the voice who had gotten them there, in another lifetime, in another universe where she had proven how unhappy she could be without her family alive and beside her. He felt a swell of pride at the thought that this woman could live through the Borg _twice_, and would return to them with her legacy—her destiny, her dignity, her body itself—in tact."And she's hoping that you've left the light on."

"It's going strong, Kathryn." _Just come home to see it,_ he sighed to himself, and shrugged off the mantle as easily as a warm cloak, thoughts placing it into the chair beside him, ready for her shoulders once again. 

"Then I'll see you when I get there, Commander. Janeway out." For the first time in minutes, the Admiral's face came to Chakotay's mind, unbidden, and he felt sorrow for this woman who apparently hadn't made it, who had sacrificed everything in her world…for his. 

"Open the shuttlebay doors, Ensign…lets bring our Captain home."

As he shifted in his seat, a crumpled paper fell, having been forgotten in the panic and the rough seas left behind them. Chakotay lifted and unrolled the page, eyes drifting over a single line scripted beautifully in the center of vanilla-colored parchment.

**_"_****_We were strangers, starting out on a journey…don't let anything tear her from you."_**

**_ _**

"I've won." The voice was cool, dangerously so, and Admiral Kathryn Janeway grasped smooth metal with a calloused hand as the tendrils captured her porcelean skin, and her throat constricted with the movements of trillions of Borg nanoprobes doing their work. Doing what they could to exterminate the existing human, as she fought to hold on just for a moment longer.

The queen inclined her head, smiling slightly amidst skin of the greyest pallor…perhaps just a touch greyer, at Janeway's observance. And a smile curled over her own lips, through the pain as it developed.

"You haven't…not…yet…"The world itself began to crumble around them, as rosiness crept into pallid cheeks, and the once strong Queen of the Borg Collective began to crumble, collapsing…crying out in…

The sharpest stinging.

When the world fell, all that was heard was a soft whisper, among the cries and the shuddering of metal in the harsh vacumn of space, the whisper which meant everything to the one woman who spoke it, reaching a hand toward the heavens, toward a ship which took off at high warp, the nacells glowing azure for the briefest of moments in the cool darkness as they slipped into a conduit and out of the harsh night.

"Thank you…Chakotay."

_Captain's Log, Stardate 10937.5_

_ _

_There's been no sign of the Borg Collective…or the Admiral. And as I have been confined to quarters for the next few days, I'm beginning to find that there's too much time to consider her demise. What were her last few moments like? If the virus did the trick, then she's had no suffering…and I can live peacefully, knowing that she didn't die in vain._

_We're on our way back to Earth, however, I am hesitant to continue until the pilot who has taken us this far is finished with his family duties—B'Elanna was admitted into Sickbay shortly after we entered the Borg Conduit, and I suspect that it's only a matter of time before another Paris is welcomed into our family._

_ _

"Come in."My legs were propped up on a footrest, the unfinished chapters of Dante's Infierno laying open in my arms and bookmarked by a trailing scarlet ribbon. I could only imagine who was behind the door, standing in the corridor with a bottle of wine and a smile on his face for my well being. _Come in, and close the door._

"How are you?" My intuition never failed to disappoint me, and a smile crossed my lips as I sat up to accept—a carafe. "Coffee?"  
"After the visit from our Admiral, I thought you might want something soothing." That smile—I couldn't look at it long enough to see—all I thought about was what she'd said. _His wife? _

"How's Seven?" The words broke from my lips before I could hold them back, and I knew what he was thinking. _I know…how could I not know? _He stared at me in such a way, placing the carafe onto the table and proceeding into the room to settle onto the couch. We'd been here before, hadn't we, reading over our reports—but this was something so much deeper than any report I could ever read, any crew evaluation. But the topic had to come up sooner or later. And it came.

"She's fine." He crossed his legs and watched me, in that damned calm way that he always did when he was trying to figure me out. I hated to be figured out- every woman, every _captain_ needed to retain some mystery in her persona. "When did you find out, Kathryn?"

"The Admiral." My little bird told me, and now she was dead in attempts to allow me to use the information which she had given me to my benefit. "When, Chakotay? Why?" 

"A month ago. We ate dinner in the mess hall…took a walk down the corridors at midnight…are you sure you want to hear this?"

_No, I don't want to hear this, Chakotay. I didn't want to hear it from her, nor you…especially not from you. It makes the reality-_

"But it's over." Those three words were the trigger which caused the gun to go off,sending a jolt of…sending a jolt through my system which I couldn't identify as anything other than sheer relief. And why relief? Because he was no longer with Seven did not mean that I was ever to be an option…it didn't mean that marriage was in his future. But god, I didn't want to die an old maid, alone without my best friend in the world, whether he was beside me at that moment or not."It's been over since the beginning of this crisis, Kathryn-when the Admiral and I were talking, and she left me with something that I couldn't explain or push away. It wasn't enough that she showed me with her eyes…she gave me something more important than that."

I shook my head,unsure of what he was getting at until he handed me the familiar crumpled paper and ribbon, both equally beaten and battered, war torn. I lowered my head to read the letters in hauntingly familiar script, but shaky as if written by the hand that belonged to a frightened woman. And when I raised my head to respond, it was met with a decidedly difficult obstruction.His lips were soft and yielding, and as her own fell into the void, as she fell into his arms, she found herself realizing, for the very first moment, that she would not be that Admiral.whom I had seen stepping upon my bridge, with her unhappy gaze and the creases of worrysome years etched deep into her skin.

I would not be that Admiral.

"This seems like it was suppose to be," Chakotay commented,pulling away to peer at me intently. "You won't become like her, will you, Kathryn."  
It wasn't a question as much as a comment, as if merely saying it would make it so.

"No, Chakotay, I-"

"_Sickbay to the Captain-"_

"Yes, Doctor?" Perhaps his call was good timing- perhaps the interruption was welcome .The plaintive wail of a newborn broke the silence, and my pride was reflected in Chakotay's eyes as we shared the moment of another Paris breaking forth into our family. 

"Mr. Paris?" I queried, raising my voice, as I knew the exuberant father would be right there, gazing at his newborn daughter with a deep pride which could never be taken away. Not after witnessing such an event. "What will you call her?"

_"We're going to name her Miral, Captain. After B'Elanna's mother."_

I gazed up at Chakotay, allowing my eyes to catch his as one hand came up, three fingers grazing his jawbone as we sat there, inches apart.

"She was born in the _Alpha _Quadrant, Chakotay. And yet…she was born at home. With us."

He nodded, and with a chuckle, I pushed him away, off the couch.

"I don't want Tom to leave her side for a moment. Take the conn, Commander—and bring us in to communications range with Earth. I want _you_ to bring us home now. "  
"You're finally ready to share your mantle?"  
It was my turn to incline my head with a smile, and he took my arm without my objection. I knew what had to be done next.

"Then you'll be beside me when I do, Kathryn. We're going to do this all…together. On the last leg."

The sun broke through the branches of a birch tree overlooking a sturdy log cabin, reflecting off the lake surface nearby, glinting off the hair of a forty-three year old woman as she bent over the face of a man. A man whose dark arm flung upward as she kissed him, auburn strands forming a curtain to block out her whispers from the world surrounding them both. 

One whisper shook the branches, yet no one heard.

_Welcome home._

-Fin

_ _

_ _


End file.
